


Unbidden

by DramaticalHearts (kusokawaii)



Category: Devilman Crybaby - Fandom
Genre: (kind of), M/M, Post Episode 3, Self-Harm, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-05-03 22:59:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14579478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kusokawaii/pseuds/DramaticalHearts
Summary: A careless phrase let slip through impulsive lips gives Ryo Asuka pause, and a feeling he can't quite recognize. Typically, it would be something he could ignore, file away into the back of his mind for later. Unexplained feelings were nothing new to him.But tonight, he decided to single it out, just for a moment. He wanted to examine this one.And he knew just who could help him do so.[Fortruejaku (hereonourstreet)!]





	Unbidden

**Author's Note:**

> Well... I didn't intend for this to be my first posted fic for this fandom. But that's just how the cookie crumbled /shrug
> 
> My good friend [Annan](http://archiveofourown.org/users/hereonourstreet/pseuds/truejaku) helped me out recently, and in return I wrote this for him. He enjoyed it very much, so I hope you will too.  
> (tysm Annan <3)
> 
> I have not had this beta-read, so any errors are mine alone.

“Ryo, I know you were trying to protect me, but… but I don’t like you killing anyone.”  
  
“I had to.”  
  
Ryo typed at his laptop, his reply flat but with a slight undercurrent of annoyance. _Haven’t we discussed this already?_  
  
“I know you think that, but… there had to be another way.”  
  
“There wasn’t.”  
  
“You nearly killed Miki, Ryo! For nothing!”  
  
The pair were back at Ryo’s condo, Ryo having offered to let Akira get cleaned up there after his encounter with Ghelmer. Akira’s only condition was allowing him to first place Miki Makimura back into her bed at home, safe and sound. Ryo had agreed — reluctantly.  
  
“I had a fair reason to suspect her.”  
  
“That doesn’t matter! Doesn’t killing bother you?”  
  
“...Not really.”  
  
_“That’s bad, Ryo.”_  
  
Ryo huffed softly, tapping the enter key. “Then why don’t you just spank me?”  
  
Ryo’s face slackened, his own words having reached his ears. He looked to Akira, and saw a similar stunned, confused expression.  
  
When Akira saw his face full-on, he barked out a laugh, the tension in the room dissipating. “What the hell, Ryo? Where did _that_ come from?”  
  
Ryo blinked at him. “...I don’t know.”  
  
“Have you ever even _been_ spanked before?? Now I wanna know,” Akira smirked teasingly. “I don’t remember you ever getting spanked when we were kids… my parents never did it, and yours-”  
  
“I don’t have any,” Ryo butt in.  
  
“Right,” Akira said, his expression falling, clearly disappointed in himself for bringing that up. “I’m sure you have them, you just don’t remember them…”  
  
As much as Ryo wanted to believe in Akira’s optimism, he didn’t see any reason to. His memories were completely absent of any parental figures before he met Akira. It was as though he had simply materialized on Earth one day, no parents involved.  
  
It wasn’t as though he had never _heard_ of that form of corporal punishment, though… the concept of it had gotten lodged somewhere in the perimeter of his mind at some point, it deciding to rear its head _now,_ of all times.  
  
He could have simply written it off as a joke, and Akira was clearly prepared to play it off that way, not wanting to escalate their conflict further, but now that it was in his mind, he couldn’t pull his attention from it.  
  
A punishment for wrongdoing… an alien concept to him. For he never felt like he had done anything truly _wrong._ Not in his eyes.  
  
Plumbing the depths of his psyche, however… there was something there. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, couldn’t give it a name, but deep down… he felt like he _had_ done something wrong. What, or when, he didn’t know. Whether it was something he’d done recently, or something that had happened well before the point where his memory cut off. It was like an indelible mark, a stain on his very soul (he briefly scoffed internally at that thought, wondering if he even had a soul at all, if such a thing existed), something he couldn’t identify or scrub away.  
  
That bothered him. Now that he knew it was there, he couldn’t ignore it. He never thought such a thing could concern him, but now that he had found it, it made him squirm slightly in discomfort.  
  
Not content to accept the fact that he could not identify the source of his discomfort, he could only venture a guess. _Was it that I disappointed Akira?_  
  
Looking back at Akira, the feeling inside him not improving as he did so, he began to think that was the case.  
  
An awkward air still hung in the space between them, Akira frowning to himself, likely troubled by his momentary thoughtlessness.  
  
“Don’t worry about it,” Ryo said, replying to the thoughts Akira had before he could voice them. “I don’t mind it.”  
  
Akira looked up at him, appearing relieved for a moment, before looking down again, his brows furrowing. “It’s so sad, though…”  
  
“You don’t miss what you never had,” Ryo dismissed simply. Though a part of him doubted this as well — somewhere else deep in his psyche, he felt a distant ache for something he couldn’t place and didn’t remember ever having. Like his other unexplained feelings, he shoved this as well into the back of his mind, it being of no immediate concern to him.  
  
But tonight, he decided to leave one unexplained feeling of his singled out. He wanted to examine this one.  
  
Having successfully brought the more awkward part of their conversation to an end, Ryo decided to pivot their discussion into a new direction.  
  
He looked back to his laptop and started to type again. He kept his voice even as he spoke. “...Don’t you want to punish me?”  
  
From the corner of his eye, he could see Akira give a jolt. “Wh-what? What are you talking about, Ryo? You’re being weird today,” he said with a nervous laugh.  
  
Ryo closed the application windows he had been working in, and clicked the button that would shut down his laptop. “I did something wrong. Something that people are usually punished for. Shouldn’t I be punished for it as well?” His laptop shut off. He closed it and set it aside. “Surely you think I deserve some kind of punishment in return. And as you are the only one who knows what I’ve done,” his eyes met Akira’s, “you are the only one who can deliver it.”  
  
Akira swallowed, hesitating. “I… I forgive you, Ryo,” he said with another nervous laugh. “There’s no need for any of that. Just as long as you never do it again.”  
  
“I don’t know if I can guarantee that,” Ryo replied. He was certain he couldn’t, but he wasn’t about to tell Akira that. “Perhaps a punishment would drive the point home.”  
  
Akira’s mouth moved uselessly for a moment. “I… I don’t see how it would. Not if you want it.”  
  
_Damn, he caught on._ “I only want it because I have just realized the error of my ways, and the feeling it has left me with will not cease,” Ryo said, changing gears. It was _partially_ true, at least. “I surmise that a punishment may be the only way for me to ease it. Going to the authorities would threaten our plans, so my only option left for punishment for my crimes is you.”  
  
Akira fidgeted in his chair, his eyes darting away from Ryo’s. “I-if you’re sure…” he replied with reluctance. “What do you want me to do? Or should I decide that?”  
  
“I would say a spanking should suffice,” Ryo said plainly.  
  
Akira choked. “Wh-what if I took your car away for a week?”  
  
“That isn’t quite the kind of punishment I was thinking of. Plus that is a very rare and expensive car. And you cannot drive.”  
  
“R-right…”  
  
“Akira,” Ryo leaned forward, placed his hand on Akira’s arm, gripped the sleeve of his shirt lightly. He looked up into his brown eyes, softening his own as much as he knew how. “Please.”  
  
Akira swallowed again, grimacing. “A-alright…”  
  
Ryo smiled internally. He knew he could count on his dear Akira to indulge him. He let go of Akira’s sleeve and stood up, approaching him on foot.  
  
“S-so, uh…” Akira hedged, not meeting Ryo’s eyes. “What do I do?”  
  
“Hm,” Ryo halted, racking his brain for a moment. “Demanding that I come over to you would be a good start.”  
  
Akira looked even more uncertain. “Uh, alright.” He frowned, slightly. “Ryo, get over here.”  
  
His voice had all the severity of a puppy’s bark. Ryo sighed. “Surely you can do a little better than that.”  
  
Akira picked up on his meaning. He furrowed his brows further, looking almost comical. “Ryo! Get over here!”  
  
Ryo held in a laugh, and closed the distance between them, feigning reluctance. Might as well act the part.  
  
Akira leaned over to him. “What do I do now?” he whispered conspiratorially.  
  
“That much should be obvious. Put me over your knee.”  
  
Akira spluttered. Ryo waited.  
  
Recomposing himself, Akira reached out to Ryo with both hands, pulling him toward himself and lifting him upward. Ryo was pliant, letting himself be turned and positioned without resistance, even when Akira didn’t quite succeed at his first attempt of placing him properly on his lap, nearly fumbling him in his nerves.  
  
He stopped once he had Ryo spread across his lap, his rear in the air. “Is this right?” he asked with hesitance.  
  
“It should suffice,” Ryo replied, adjusting himself slightly. He braced his upper half with his forearms, his elbows pressing into the fabric of the white couch.  
  
“...Now what?”  
  
“Mm… I would suppose that pulling down my pants is next.”  
  
“What?!” Ryo couldn’t see his expression from his current position, but he knew Akira well enough to tell from his voice alone that he was flustered, probably blushing right now.  
  
Ryo was undeterred, keeping his voice even and casual. “Just enough to expose the buttocks. It won’t have much of an effect if clothing is there to shield it.”  
  
Akira let out a long, weary sigh. “...Are you sure about this, Ryo? There’s really no other way?”  
  
“Positive.”  
  
Akira sighed again, and, with reluctance, worked his fingers under Ryo’s waistband, and pulled down his pants and underwear slowly. He stopped once the waistbands of both were rested just under his buttocks.  
  
“Is this alright?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“...What now?”  
  
“Hm,” Ryo mused. “Often a flat, inanimate object such as a board is used for this purpose, but in this case I think your bare hand will be fine.”  
  
“A-alright…” Akira fell silent then. From the corner of his vision he could see Akira raising his hand. He waited.  
  
His hand lowered.  
  
“I, I can’t do this, Ryo! I don’t want to hurt you!”  
  
Ryo gave a light sigh. “I will be fine. This isn’t dangerous in the slightest.”  
  
“B-but what if Amon comes out?”  
  
“Control him. I would think that tonight’s violence has sated him for the time being, regardless.” Ryo shook his head. “This won’t take long, so you have nothing to worry about.”  
  
Akira grumbled softly. “...I don’t like this, Ryo.”  
  
“Neither of us is supposed to _like_ this, Akira. Thus why it’s a punishment, though more for me than you. The deliverer of said punishment… is likely propelled to do such things by duty, to keep the rightful order. It’s not pleasant for them, but they feel it has to be done. Well, there _are_ those who derive pleasure from delivering it, but I don’t think you are subject to that particular perversion.”  
  
_Am I such a person?_ Ryo wondered. He didn’t know. Perhaps he’d find out.  
  
Akira let out a soft sigh. “Fine.” He raised his hand again, slowly. “Just… remember why I’m doing this.”  
  
“Tell me.”  
  
“Huh?”  
  
“Tell me why.”  
  
“Oh… because… because you were reckless. You killed a human. And you nearly killed Miki.” Akira’s voice took on a harsh edge at the end of his sentence, and Ryo knew he had gotten through to him.  
  
He braced himself involuntarily, anticipating the hit.  
  
A beat later than he expected, it came.  
  
Smack.  
  
Ryo had expected the sting, the loud sound of a skin-on-skin slap, but experiencing it was another matter. The pain and humiliation combined should have felt wrong to him… but somehow, it felt _right._ Like he _deserved_ this. As though some small part of him knew he had done wrong somehow, knew that a punishment was due, and felt _relief_ at it being delivered. It was a strange feeling.  
  
“...Is that enough?” Akira ventured.  
  
“More.”  
  
Akira hesitated a moment. “...How much more?”  
  
“As much as you deem necessary. I will let you be the judge of that.”  
  
Ryo could sense Akira’s uncertainty. He wished he could reassure him, but he wasn’t sure how.  
  
Before he could say anything, another slap was delivered. Then another, making Ryo gasp involuntarily. Another, harder one came, and an involuntary moan rose from Ryo’s throat, making both of them pause.  
  
“...Ryo? Are you alright?” Akira asked, his voice softly worried.  
  
A wave of irritation ran through Ryo that he couldn’t quite explain. “Yes!” he choked out. “More!”  
  
He saw Akira frown down at him from the corner of his eye. Ryo looked away, and the spanking continued, slow but steady. The feeling it gave him… scared him. It felt like a release, like something that was a long time coming but happening at last. Guilt was not a familiar emotion to Ryo, but he felt it now in waves, and he couldn’t explain why. He bit his lip, feeling a prickling at his eyes that he didn’t want to advance; whether from pain, embarrassment, or some other emotion, he wasn’t certain.  
  
He knew he was going to bruise, that sitting would be painful for at least a day or so. But he didn’t know how to stop. He couldn’t speak — he could only wait for Akira to decide when enough was enough.  
  
When Ryo suddenly let out a cry of pain, his voice cracking in the middle, Akira ceased. Ryo panted, feeling a different kind of relief now, like he’d been freed.  
  
He could feel Akira trembling. “R-Ryo…”  
  
The next moment, Akira scooped Ryo up into his arms and nestled him onto his chest, holding him close. Ryo could feel his chest hitch with sobs, his own shoulder dampening with Akira’s fallen tears.  
  
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” Akira muttered in a tremulous voice, fumbling with one hand to get Ryo’s pants pulled back up.  
  
Ryo sighed, his head beginning to clear at last. He reached an arm around Akira to rub at his back comfortingly. “It’s alright. You did fine.”  
  
Having gotten Ryo’s pants pulled up to his satisfaction, Akira wrapped both arms around Ryo and held him tight, sniffling. “Don’t make me do that again…”  
  
In a different tone, said by anyone else, it would have sounded scolding. _Don’t do what you did again, or you’ll be punished like this again._ Ryo knew what Akira meant, though, clear through his wavering voice — _Don’t ask me to hurt you again._  
  
Ryo couldn’t promise the former, he knew he couldn’t. But he could promise the latter. “I won’t. I promise.”  
  
As Akira softly sobbed, stroking Ryo’s back in a soothing fashion, Ryo thought. Punishment was one response to wrongdoing — a valid one. But, so was forgiveness.  
  
And Akira, his dear Akira — he certainly had the capability to punish others within him, proven by his actions toward demons that had harmed the innocent. But, deep down, unless all else failed, his true inclination was to forgive. His heart was far too soft for him to hold a grudge for long, especially when it came to his best friend.  
  
Ryo was thankful for that. He wasn’t sure if anyone without Akira’s forgiving nature would have stayed by his side this long. Perhaps he didn’t need punishment at all — he could consider it optional.  
  
For if there was one thing Ryo could count on, it was Akira’s forgiveness.

**Author's Note:**

> 'okay but why would Ryo feel bad about anything at all at this point, even subconsciously'  
> Let's call it... angelic guilt.  
> Kinda like Catholic guilt, except with a higher order of being created to only serve God and reside in Heaven. Despite Ryo's feelings about doing so, and his choice to go against God, I'd expect some small part of him would feel _wrong_ about it, subconsciously/instinctually. Angels aren't made to fall.
> 
> 'you're saying it hurt when he fell from heaven-' yes.


End file.
